


inevitable

by birdcaged



Series: inevitability [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Extremely Dubious Consent, Friends With Benefits, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Omega James T. Kirk, Pheromones, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdcaged/pseuds/birdcaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's always taken suppressants to reduce the frequency of his heats; except nobody told him suppressants don't work when you're near your mate. Only problem was, Jim was constantly around people at the academy. From classes to downtown bars to philandering around with most the student body on campus. He slept with a multitude of people, every species, every flavor, just to prove he can have sex when <em>he</em> wanted, not when his body dictated he should. Any one of them could've jumpstarted his body's natural disposition</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jim/Gary: Can't Cheat Biology

**Author's Note:**

> warning: extreme dubious consent like whoa. mention of mpreg.
> 
> disclaimer: figment of my perverse imagination. 
> 
> author's note: Like most omega!verses, this is a fucked up story. Forewarning.

Jim prided himself on not succumbing to biology. It was the twenty-third century and that's what suppressants were for. Like clockwork, he took one pill a day to delay the inevitable, and heeded the warning label that suppressants amplified your heat when it came once a year. So once a year Jim snuck back home to Iowa to his dead parents' house and quarantined himself until the week passed. It had worked flawlessly for years. The rest of the time he could be normal. A normal cadet with high grades and a social life that most envied.

If he hadn't been so anti-biology he might've paid better attention in class. Omegas heat cycle went off tangent when their mate was near; and no suppressant could negate it. Only problem was, Jim was constantly around people at the academy. From classes to downtown bars to philandering around with most the student body on campus. He slept with a multitude of people, every species, every flavor, just to prove he can have sex when _he_ wanted, not when his body dictated he should. Any one of them could've jumpstarted his body's natural disposition.

So when Jim woke up a little feverish that morning, he thought nothing of it. Until he went to his first class and his fever became full-blown arousal and the telltale sign of the slickness between his thighs told him a different story. Something was _wrong_. He couldn't be - he already had his annual heat three months ago. Anxiety fueling him, he runs out of class and towards medical. Bones. Bones would know what to do. Bones - would he...he didn't even know. _Fuck_.

Bones takes one look at his fevered skin, dilated pupils and _knows_.

"God damn, Jim, you smell like every alpha's wet dream," McCoy grips him roughly by the neck, ushering him inside a room, already armed with a hypo and injecting him before Jim can get a word in. Instantly his body feels less like an inferno.

Then he feels dizzy, and drowsy, and less aroused.

McCoy steadies him with his hands, keeping him upright, long enough to escort him to his room and deposit him on his bed. Distantly he realizes this wasn't how he planned to get the great doctor in his bed and undressing him.

"You're in for a long two weeks."

His brain is too foggy to ask why two instead of one.

* * *

 

After ten days and still no sign of impending relief or his heat subsiding, Jim plans his escape. McCoy had locked him in his room using his medical emergency code, the bastard. But Jim's been hacking and coding since he was nine. It takes longer than usual because his mind is still screaming at him why he isn't getting fucked, the tremors a heavy distraction but finally he manages it after five hours. First place he goes to is the kitchen, for his dampeners. Dampeners disguised scents; either the scent of a heat or the scent of having another alpha's scent on you. They were easily sold in vending machines and convenient stores. After dousing a whole bottle all over himself, he heads off to his local pharmacy. The young cashier looks at him knowingly as she rings up his purchases. The shivers and profuse sweating are hard to miss and he feels like his entire body is in a sauna.

Trudging back to his dormitory, he's stopped by a familiar face, a fellow command cadet that under normal circumstances, he would welcome as a distraction.

"Jimmy!"

"Gary," Jim manages to get out, his hands clenched inside his pockets.

"You've been absent for nearly two weeks! Isn't like you," Gary eyes him in concern, his eyes raking over him. "Don't tell me you caught some _venereal_ disease and that's why you haven't stop by lately."

He's too tired to care for Gary's flippant insults.

"Wouldn't stop you, would it?"

Gary's flirtatious smile wanes when he leans in closer.

"Jesus, Jim, how come you never told me?" Gary says, his voice hoarse and rough and it hits Jim then that Gary could probably smell him with his keen alpha senses in this proximity, dampener or no.

Jim's never been around an alpha before while in heat, especially one he's had sex with before and maybe it's some biological imperative why he gets more aroused when Gary's eyes darken and he swears can practically _feel_ the alpha's pheromones.

"C'mon Jimmy, I'm gonna take care of you, you slutty little bitch," Gary chuckles, tugging him by the wrist towards Jim's quarters. Mindless, Jim nods, wondering why he didn't just do this sooner. He should've. He's heard all the seedy tales of fucking while in heat and he's never been so aroused by the prospect of sex this much before, already feeling like he's going to _explode_ and they haven't gotten to any foreplay yet.

As soon as they're inside his quarters, Gary pushes him roughly against the wall, shoving one leg between Jim's thighs, his hands vice tight on his wrists as he plunders Jim's mouth his tongue and teeth and lips. Jim's first impulse is to shove the older cadet away, disgusted by the litany of downgrading names Gary murmurs against his mouth. Bitch and whore and filthy little slut. When he tries to twist away, Gary laughs against the curve of his neck, teeth biting down on his clavicle, hard.

"Wanna mark you up," Gary rasps, moaning deep in his throat as he digs his hips into Jim's, "gonna fucking breed you, fill you up so good, Jimmy. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Be my little bitch, pumped full of my come?"

He doesn't but he _does_.

Like all the other times with Gary; he wants verbal consent. He wants to hear him beg. So Jim begs. And soon he's sprawled on his back, Gary looming over him, already two fingers deep inside him without the aid of lubricant. Gary coos at him, keeping a firm hand his stomach as he pushes in, and Jim mewls. All he can think of is _yes_ and _more_ and _harder_ and _fuck me fuck me fuck me_. The bed creaks noisily, the sounds of their rough coupling permeating the room, and Jim doesn't protest when Gary grinds into him as he comes.

He has an emergency stash of contraceptives under his bed. He can deal with warding off unwanted pregnancies later. Gary's teeth scrape the back of his neck once Jim's directed to his hands and knees and hangs his head down so his forehead can rest against his sweat-soaked pillow, the sensation of being fucked so hard and fast curing his feverish state.

"Fuck Jim, " Gary's hips stutter above him, his next thrust knocking Jim onto his elbows, "you're so fucking wet. God, ugh, fuck yeah."

This time Gary pulls out and comes all over him, and Jim wrinkles his nose, wondering if the act was some archaic alpha way to mark their territory. Once his heart rate drops down and he's more clear headed than he's felt in days, he pushes Gary off the bed. Gut churning with self-loathing and when Gary laughs at him, he knows he deserves it.

"Aw, poor Jimmy," Gary's vivacious spite returning, "you can't cheat biology."

* * *


	2. Jim/Bones: A friend in need is a friend indeed

Saying Bones is livid is an understatement. There's no accurate description to illustrate Doctor Leonard McCoy when he's pissed off, except to get out of his way and do what he says. Except there's no undoing what Jim's done.

"You're lucky you're not pregnant," Bones scowls at him for the umpteenth time. "Your heat was so strong, it overrode that shitty over the counter contraceptive you had." Bones had given him a hypospray, double the dosage to prevent pregnancy. Once more, Jim curses biology for trying to make him a baby maker.

"Gary fucking Mitchell," Bones mutters, going off on a litany of half-muttered, half-coherent insults. "Anything else I should know about your medical history you care to share?"

Gulping, Jim shakes his head. "I didn't want..."

Sighing, Bones puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Any idea who triggered it?"

"Definitely not someone I've slept with," Jim mutters, his stomach churning. If his mate was someone he'd already experienced sexual relations with, he wouldn't still be feeling the after-effects of arousal, and he would've known right then and there. His heat is muted down, less severe, thanks to the aid of Bones' concoction but it won't last for long. Gary was a temporary fix, and soon, no telling when, his body was going to go against him again and demand he mate and breed, and fuck.

"Anyone new you've been near? Any new cadet in your classes?"

"I...well, oh god," Jim mutters, hands digging in his scalp. "Xenolinguistics club. I joined about, uh, a week ago. Sans Uhura, who is a beta by the way, they're all dull. I don't want a dim-wit brawn for an alpha."

"And Mitchell's not that?" Bones comments dryly, and Jim shoots him an offended look.

"Bones, why...you're an alpha, how in the hell did you manage to -"

"Jim, you're sure as hell attractive, and you smelled sweet but taking an omega, without their consent, isn't one of my kinks. I know you Jim. There's a reason why you didn't tell me, and I respect that."

"Thanks, Bones."

"Don't thank me yet, that dosage is going to make you feel nauseous for a few days," Bones says, sympathy in his eyes. "For God's sake, next time you need...I'll..."

"You would?" Jim says, almost too eagerly. Yeah, he had a crush the moment they met, and it was kind of heartbreaking to realize Bones wasn't his mate, but that didn't matter to him. Biology was a bitch.

Bones looks disgruntled before he acquiesces. "Yeah, better me than some egotistical dumbass who doesn't use protection. Jesus Christ, Jim, what were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," Jim spits out sourly, "heat kinda nullifies any sense of rationale."

Bones winces and lets his lecture on safe sex go.

* * *

 

The following week, Jim's apprehensive about the meeting. It was the only logical explanation. Someone in that club was his - holy shit - mate and he fully expected when he walked in, he would know instantly and roll over like a dog and they would runt in front of the entire club. Except, he walks in and he feels nothing. No innate yearning, no submissive unexplained tendency, nada.

Uhura eyes him critically. "Look who decided to join us."

Grinning cheekily at her, he sits down right beside her. Shame Uhura was a beta, he certainly would hold no qualms being under her.

Halfway through he feels something. His skin itches yet it's not as potent. It made no sense. Betas didn't attract omegas like an alpha could. Sure, betas and omegas could be sexually compatible, but they couldn't be mates for life material. Besides, Uhura was perfectly unaffected by his presence.

Uhura slaps him when he leans in, thinking he's going in for a grope. "What the hell is wrong with you, Kirk?"

"Uhura, uh, mind introducing me to the alpha you've got all over you?"

She fixes him a disdainful look. "You disgust me. Not enough to slut your way around campus, now you're poaching on other people's _monogamous_ relationships?"

It's so outrageous, it's comical. Uhura's alpha was _his_ mate. God, he hopes her boyfriend isn't hideous or worse than Mitchell but something tells him he's no half-wit. Uhura had standards and only dated those who she deemed worthy of her time. Knowing her, he was probably some xenology fancier who thought he knew everything. Uhura didn't strike him as 'opposites' attract type of gal, she'd probably want the same liked-minded attributes in her significant other as herself.

Jim's mate was a snob. Great.

* * *

 

He's with Gaila at lunch after their command seminar class when it hits him again. Gaila is a brilliant tactician and had surpassed all her command classes, and she also knew all the codes to the system he needed. She had laughed when he claimed he'd beat the unwinnable Kobayashi Maru.

"You know what unbeatable means, don't you?" she chortles. "Besides, I'm surprised Captain Pike would let you take it a third time."

"I have a very persuasive attitude," he tells her impishly.

Gaila eyes him. "If I didn't know Captain Pike, I'd say you seduced him but I know better. What did you say?"

"Nothing much," Jim admits, then says in a sober tone, "used the guilt-trip, actually. Did you know he went to the academy with my parents?"

"So you used your parents' death," Gaila looks at him gobsmacked. "You're a new level of fucked-upness, Kirk."

"Tell me something I don't know," Jim mutters, then looks at her with pleading eyes. Gaila says he's irresistible when he does that, especially in bed. "So how about it? You gotta help me or not?"

Gaila huffs, patting his cheek as if he were a pet and he glowers. "Only because I'd love to see Commander Spock choke on his own spit, I'll do it."

"Commander Spock?"

"He's the most stringent professor, and he designed the Kobayashi Maru. You're lucky you tested out of xenolinguists, you little prodigy shit," Gaila glares, "he's a stickler for rules. I wish I could be in the observation room when you do it, Jim. Nothing would please me more to see him outbeated by a kid."

"Hey!"

"If you're serious, then meet me at zero dark thirty behind the command building." She winks at him before departing their table.

Right on the dot, he does. He waits for ten minutes before she arrives, chip in hand with a hop to her swagger. He grins in greeting.

However, he picks up on that familiar scent once more.

"Were you around any alphas?"

Gaila look at him in confusion why he's asking that question, but thankfully she doesn't push and answers, "It's the command observation room. As a teacher's assistant, I get access to it. Captain Pike, Commander Spock, Admiral Barnett, Captain Garrovick...a lot of instructors have access to the room I just stole that from."

That narrows it down to three, sort of.

His hand starts to sweat after a few minutes of holding it. Back in his quarters, he modifies the program. Makes his coding look inconspicuous and blend in so whoever might examine it later won't be able to tell what he done. Gaila doesn't answer her comm, so he walks back to the command building (thankfully Gaila still had given him her access code), and inserts it back to the computer himself.

He's halfway out the door before the palpitations start, and without any dampeners, he's not leaving the building. Bones had made him promise to not be an idiot again.

"Bones," he grunts into his communicator when Bones answers with his stereotypical 'what the fuck do you want now' growl.

Apparently his tone of voice gives it away and Bones retorts, "oh hell. Where the fuck are you?"

* * *

"I swear you're the most suicidal cadet in the academy," Bones grunts as he half-carries Jim back to his room. "Sneaking into the command building at 2 in the morning so you can beat some stupid silly test. You know it doesn't matter, right Jim? You'll still graduate, everyone fails the -"

"Bones," Jim moans, "my alpha...he's...he's..."

"Yeah, you told me," Bones looks at him with regret. "If you want, I can go comm Pike and ask him what alphas have access to that room and - "

"Bones, why the hell is it stronger?"

"Kid, your recent heat was just a precursor. Any time you're near your mate, either through scent, touch, anything, it's gonna make you feel - "

"Like if I don't get fucked, I'll die?" Jim quips warily.

Typing in Jim's code, Bones fixes him another pitiful glance. Jim feels like his skin is on fire, everything around him feels muted down and he _aches_. So badly. It's maddening, overwhelming and Jim's hopeless, can't do anything but surrender to what his body wants.

"Please, I need..."

Bones takes his temperature, tricorder buzzing in alarm. "Jesus, it's too late to give you that sedative without risking - "

"Bones."

"Your vitals are skyrocketing, fuck, Jim, do you have to be allergic to everything?" Bones looks frantic as he digs through his medbag for a hypospray that wouldn't flare up Jim's allergies.

" _Bones_ , fuck me, right fucking now," Jim grits out, "or I'm going to hate you forever." He frantically tries to shed his pants off, and Bones curses before gripping him by the arms before Jim tumbles all over himself, exclaiming, "fucking hell, kid, lemme at least, hang on - " Jim is distantly aware of his own babbling, and he groans loudly when Bones finally helps him get off his pants, the cool air hitting his overheated skin.

"Fucking hell, Jim, you're dripping all over me," Bones pants, his fingers laced tightly in Jim's hair, the front of his pants moist where their hips are connected.

"Sorry," he whimpers, the desperation too much and his hand reaches down to wrap around his own dick, and he hears Bones gasp above him. "I need, I _need_..."

The angle's all wrong and he's using the wrong hand, but that hardly matters. His dick is hot and heavy and sticky-wet and he works himself hard and fast, hips thrusting up into the tight circle of his fingers, just barreling forward, desperate for release. And he can feel it build: the heat low in his belly churning bright and hot. Coiling.

Then suddenly Bones's hand is wrapping right over his, that southern twang rough and rasp hot along his skin, mouth close to his ear, "Lemme see you, darlin', wanna see you come all over yourself, _please_."

The sound of Bones' voice, of an alpha _begging_ , sends Jim over the edge with one last flick of his wrist, spilling hot and thick over his hand and Bones', body doubled forward as it pulses through him.

His hand has stopped but he's still spurting and Bones wraps a steady arm around him, whispering, "Holy fuck, that was hot."

"Yeah?" Jim can't help the smug smile that spreads across his face.

"Yeah kid, almost blew my own fucking load just now like a hormonal teenager," Bones admits, rocking forward, his next words a dark whisper against the curve of Jim's cheek, "Can you feel how hard I am?" And Jim _can_ , it's unmistakable the thick line of Bones's cock right up against his hip, and he can't help the desperate whine that pushes through his throat.

"God Bones," Jim breathes, rolling his hips like a blatant invitation, "put it in me, need you to f-fuck me."

Bones is silent for a terrifyingly stretch of seconds before he lets out of a rough exhale, "Jesus."

In a frenzy clothes are thrown to a heap on the floor and Jim's thrown on the mattress. Landing with a grunt, Jim scrambles backwards on his elbows and Bones is on top of him, the friction of his pants delicious against his leaking cock. Jim surges forward, gripping the front of Bones' shirt, the material twisting in his unrelenting grip as he kisses the doctor, exchanging dirty, wet kisses, the kind of sex-infused kisses where you didn’t care about the spit and the tongue action. Jim whines when Bones pulls away, reaching for something he'd put on the nightstand before Jim attacked him with devouring kisses.

At his petulant whine, Bones injects himself with his own hypospray, answering Jim's unasked question, "I'm not taking a chance getting you knocked up, you fucking idiot."

If he wasn't so turned on, he would retort with his usual cocksure reply. Instead he lets out a greedy moan when Bones finally grips him by the hip as he guides himself inside Jim. Of course, his own juices help, so it's not painful but it still burns. But soon that burn starts to break away to wanton passion, and he squirms, making Bones falter and let out a strangled moan,

"Fuck. Oh, _fuck_ , you feel..."

Jim's mind is a mantra of _fuck me_ and _there_ , and halfway through Bones mutters tightly in his ear, "Goddamn, Jim, I can't fuck you any faster than I already am." Jim lets out a choked groan when Bones somehow manages to grind his hips just right and without any forewarning, Jim comes again, this time harder than before that he blacks out before he finds out if Bones followed, or possibly freaked out that he might've fucked Jim to death.

He wakes up hours later to a hand gently coursing through his hair, and it takes a few minutes for the precipices of sleep to slip away to consciousness.

"God," is all Jim can say, and this time feels guilt, not self-loathing. Because Bones is his best friend and he wonders if he might've crossed a line. Bones telling him it's fine is one thing but he knows, deep down, if hadn't been for his enticing pheromones, Bones would never -

"Stop over thinking it," Bones murmurs in his ear, "and, trust me, I didn't mind at all but I've giving you another dosage of suppressants in the morning. Can't take a chance the entire bridge having a go at you during your test tomorrow, can I?"

The notion is sadly truthful, and Jim can't help the humorless laugh that breaks through his throat. "Oh god, can you imagine the look on Pike's face if that happened?"

"Jesus," Bones says after a long pause, "the admiralty would have a field day."

Coincidentally, admiralty ends up having a field day anyway.


End file.
